A Little While Longer
by spoonsandthings14
Summary: You wake up in the bunker, as you would most days, but something is definitely off and you're the only one who seems to notice.
1. Chapter 1

To your surprise, sleep began to wean only minutes before your alarm could go off. It was times like these you wished for the sun to shine through a window near your bed, cascading over you as you woke up, but the bunker had no windows so a blinking red alarm next to your bed would have to do. Yawning, you leaned over to turn the alarm off and flick on the lamp beside it. You ran a hand over your face as the hazy yellow light enveloped the room. Your eyes sleepy gazed over at the other side of the bed. The sheets were flipped up and the pillow was dented as if someone had been sleeping beside you. I must have rolled over in my sleep, you briefly thought before slowly standing up from the warm embrace of the sheets and pulling on a ripped pair of jeans and a warn band tee. The bunker had been fairly hot the past few days so you forgo your black plaid flannel, leaving it hanging in the closet. The scent of coffee wafted through the air as you made your way to the kitchen, the chilled floor on your bare feet making you shiver slightly. You must have been the last one to wake up as Cas and Dean were already seated at the table with half empty cups of coffee and mostly finished plates of food. Cas's signature dirty trench coat hung around him and you couldn't help but briefly notice how close their arms were. Instead of sitting across from one another, they had squished in right beside each other, shoulders pressed against the other. As you walked to the coffee machine, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of their hands intertwined. If you knew Dean at all that was probably left unmentioned, so with a confused smile etched onto your face, you directed your attention back to the coffee and poured a steaming glass.

"Morning sleeping beauty," Dean greeted as he finally noticed you.

"Morning," you sleepily returned, taking a careful sip of the black liquid, sighing as it warmed your throat.

"Rough night?" Dean's question came with a suggestive wink that made you scoff. If anyone had been in the bunker with you, it's not like they would go unnoticed.

"No, I just," you rolled your shoulders back and yawned again, trying to shake off the post-sleep sluggishness that had secured itself so tightly to you, "I just slept hard I guess." It had been over a week since your last hunt, you hadn't drank last night, and you went to sleep before 2am, so there was no real reason for the tired ache in your bones or the lingering headache you were hoping the coffee would take care of. Things had been a little tense lately. Chuck had decided the bunker was the best place to put Lucifer in some cosmic 'time out', which made stress levels run high. You didn't mind him being there, if you were honest you had always had this strange attraction to the blond archangel. You could even say you sympathized with him but given the boys' past with him, it was more than understandable that they were less than happy about the situation. But who can refuse God? Speaking of the Devil, Lucifer chose this moment to saunter into the kitchen. He was dressed in his usual attire, worn jeans, and a greenish shirt, but had opted for a leather jacket you hadn't seen before. Cas and Dean glanced up at him, but quickly returned to their conversation you weren't able to hear, without a scowl or glare his way.

"Morning," you greeted, before turning around to top off your coffee. You tried your best to at least acknowledge him every morning but he usually just passed through the rooms, scowl seemingly glued onto his face without a word or locked himself in some room somewhere for a few hours. Suddenly, two arms snaked their way around your waist from behind you, making you jump as your coffee sloshed over the side of the cup, dripping down the side.

"Good morning," Lucifer whispered softly, so close to our ear that you could feel his breath, sending shivers down your spine. His usual chill was seeping into your back, making you regret leaving the flannel in your room. You were too shocked to be scared as you twisted yourself around to face him. He loosened his arms, allowing you to do so, but kept them wrapped around your waste. You were slack-jawed as he smiled down at you, not his devilish grin he wore so often, but a softer more genuine smile that you had maybe seen ghost his lips once before for a few seconds. Unable to say anything for a moment, your eyes darted to Dean and Cas who had taken no notice of Lucifer's sudden affection toward you. Your grip unconsciously tightened around the mug as you continued to stare, at a loss for words, up at him.

"Sleep well?" He purred in the same low whisper as before but he gave you time to answer as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You felt as if your brain was short-circuiting. Lucifer was kissing you? In the bunker? And no one even seemed to notice? Despite your swirling thoughts, your lips softly returned the caress as he moved his tongue along your lower lip, nearly pulling a moan from your lips.

"Good news," Sam's voice caught your attention as Lucifer pulled away. You mentally smacked yourself as the loss of contact make your heart drop. Sam was just a few steps from the door and shoving his phone back into his pocket, "My hunter friend I was telling you about checked up on the case and it looks like it's wrapped up pretty tight," Sam smiled as he glanced from Dean and Cas to you and Lucifer. He had seen Lucifer kissing you. You were certain he had but he said nothing. He didn't even make any indication he had noticed or cared.

"Great," Dean added, followed by a "That's very good, Sam," from Cas.

"Yeah, um," you cleared your throat, trying to find the words, painfully aware that Lucifer still stood very close to you, his arm nearly brushing yours, "That's good. I'm glad we don't have to go back." Your words spilled out without much thought but you were glad you didn't have to return to that creepy-ass town. The four of you had caught wind of several hauntings about 7 hours from the bunker and it had turned out to be the misfortune of an antique collected with a bad knack for purchasing haunted items. The main problem was that the old man who lived there was senile and had buried several items in the land surrounding the house. Sam had managed to destroy as many suspected items he could find in the house while you and Dean had spent hours essentially reenacting the movie Holes. The entire town gave you the creeps but there was the worry you all had to go back if another haunting popped up from some passed over trinket. Luckily that apparently wasn't the case and all the spirits were taken care of. Lucifer's arm moving around the side of your waste pulled you from your thoughts and you quickly moved forward out of his grasp. Lucifer's calm expression twisted slightly into one of worry.

"Are you alright, Love," He asked and for a second you found yourself at a loss for words again.

"Yeah, I'm - I'm fine," Sam was staring down at you too now with a similar look on his face.

"Are you sure, you seem a bit jumpy," Sam questioned.

"I'm fine I just." You just what? What the actual fuck was going on? "I don't feel so hot," you managed before making your way out of the kitchen as fast as you could without running, discarding your still full cup of coffee on the counter as you went. Instead of B-lining it to your room, you stopped in the hallway to breathe and try to slow your heart that was beginning to feel like a jackhammer. Ok, so what exactly was happening? Lucifer was being affectionate—more than that he kissed you—fuck. And Sam didn't even notice. On top of that Dean and Cas were practically snuggled together like they hadn't spent the majority of their lives dancing around their feelings.

"(Y/N)," Sam called softly as he walked up to you, "Seriously, is everything alright?" You looked up at him like he had three heads.

"Have you not noticed anything weird going on this morning?" you scoffed and he pressed his lips together.

"Can't say that I have. What kind of weird stuff?"

"Like the fact that your brother and Cas are suddenly holding hands in the kitchen or you know, the tiny little fact that Lucifer just made out with me in the kitchen." Sam made a brief indignation of disgust before his face morphed into a humorous expression.

"Dean and Cas finally got over themselves months ago. Remember," He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Dean sat as down looking like a scared schoolgirl talking about their crush and then we all went for beers," Sam paused, waiting to see some sort of recognition on your face but found none, "And I'm still not thrilled about you and Lucifer but if I'm honest, you seem good for him, you know?" Dean and Cas are together and apparently so are you and Lucifer? This has to be some kind of spell or trick—

"Gabriel," you just short of whispered.

"What?"

"This is probably one of Gabriel's tricks," you reasoned. Of course, everyone shacking up, not remembering how this happened, It fit the Trickster's MO pretty damn well.

"Yeah, I uh, I doubt that," Sam laughed, earning a confused glance from you. "Gabriel agreed to cook it with the pranks."

"Since when?" Now it was Sam's turn to look at you as if you had an extra head or two.

"Since we started dating." If you had your coffee you would have done a spit take at that.

"What?" you stumbled out.

"Wow," He laughed again, but there was a sense of worry in his voice as he reached out to feel your forehead, "You don't feel hot but maybe you should go lie down." You batted his hand away but did your best to soften your voice. You had no idea what was going on but there was no sense worrying him or convincing him you were crazy even though you were less sure yourself with every passing minute.

"No, I think I'm gonna go down to the shooting range, clear my head a bit," You turned away from him, hearing a muttered "alright" before heading down to the range.

*Crack*

*Crack*

Bullets echoed throughout the room; the dull thuds of the gun firing radiated up your arms as you repeatedly shot at the target, focusing your thoughts on the sound and vibrations. It couldn't be a spell. There were few if any spells that would have power over archangels and if such a spell existed it was unlikely to be of the mundane 'everybody is apparently in love now' variety. It wasn't the trickster—or at least Sam didn't think so. Would Gabriel make Sam think they were dating to cover his ass? Probably but for some reason, Gabriel as the culprit wasn't sitting right with you.

*Crack*

And Lucifer—Lucifer kissed you. You knew you should want him to again but you did. His arms felt safe and yes, maybe feeling safe while wrapped up in the Devil's embrace was insane but so was the rest of your life. You placed the gun down and removed your headphones, as your target zipped up to you. Putting everything back away, you made your way up to the bunker's library. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the library was empty. No one was hurt yet and everyone seemed happy under whatever influence this was but the gnawing feeling in your gut couldn't be ignored so you grabbed a few books from the shelves and placed them on the table, two on Arabic lore and one on ancient witchcraft. Before you could sit down you noticed an oddly familiar chill on your back.

"Are you alright." turning, you saw Lucifer standing all too close to you again, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're avoiding me," He pretended to pout as he stepped even closer to you, causing goosebumps to prickle along your skin. A deep arose from your chest as you gazed up at Lucifer, his frown turning into a smile that made the skin around his eyes crinkle.

"I don't know what's going on. Me and you we're not," you looked at the ground instead of finishing the thought, "This feels like a dream," you whispered. A dream—hazy and confusing—seemed to describe whatever this was quite well.

"Maybe it is a dream," Lucifer responded, his voice low but not quite a whisper, as he pulled you to him like he had that morning. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes locked on yours with a tender expression before leaning down for another kiss. Your hand slipped up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers slightly in his hair as five little words prodded at the back of your head.

"No harm in a dream."


	2. Dream or Nightmare?

The shuffle of feet, the harsh gravely scratching of metal against concrete, the sharp freezing pain radiating from your temples to the rest of your body, was all you could focus on. Everything was blurred colors of greys and black with specs of hazy light here and there swirled together like a nightmarish kaleidoscope. A sharp but distant cry rang out like someone was screaming at the other end of a tunnel. On instinct, you tried to breathe but the pain constricted your lungs like a snake had winded its way around your ribcage. You tired again in vain, lifting your chest up, but the snake pulled tighter and a dull jingle of metal sounded in your ears as you relaxed your body in defeat. You attempted to scream but with the difficulty to breath and the dessert that seemed to have consumed your throat, barely a sound escaped you. Another scream sounded, much closer than the last and you swiveled your head to find the source of the sound but the blurry images before your eyes made you sick to your stomach.

"(Y/N)," your name came in a low and abrasive whisper in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that only added to the nausea now consuming you. A broad, callused finger traced your jawline, radiating the same pain in your head along the stroke.

"(Y/N)," the voice was gentler, lighter, as a hand came up to brush a strand of hair behind your face.

"(Y/N), Wake up," Lucifer whispered as your eyes shot open to meet his icy blue ones, gasping for air like you would never breathe again. Your mind was still hazy as the cold pain subsided to the warmth of the sheets enveloping you.

"It was only a nightmare," He reassured you as you tried to steady your breathing.

"Luce?" it was more of a question than a statement as it passed your lips softly. His hand still cupped your face, running his thumb gently along your skin.

"I'm right here," He pulled you to him so that you could lay against his chest. Suddenly, overcome with heat, you entangled your legs with his, allowing his cool skin to comfort you. "Go back to sleep love," Lucifer wrapped an arm around you, tracing a finger along your back in some sort of pattern. You allowed your eyes to close, focusing on the rhythmic strokes against your bare skin. Enochian, you guessed with a small smile ghosting across your lips before sleep overtook you.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, still feeling the rise and fall of Lucifer's chest, no alarm or other sound to be heard but his steady breathing. Your eyes fell closed again, listening to the beat of his heart. It occurred to you for a moment, like a thought just on the edge of your mind, that it was odd for an angel to sleep. Angels weren't supposed to sleep, were they? But in that moment you couldn't bring yourself to care, so the thought remained unformed and waiting.

*beep* *beep* *beep*

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as the alarm rang on, causing you to finally roll away from his chest and push yourself up on your elbows to turn the alarm off. Slinging your legs over the side of the bed, you heard a muffled groan behind you before an arm made its way around your middle, holding you firm but not quite pulling you back.

"Stay," Lucifer grumbled, sleep lingering on every syllable. A soft smile made its way onto your face as you turned to look at him. He squinted up at you, a tired grin on his face and blonde hair in every direction. You hesitated, feet just above the floor, as you looked back at him, "Come on the Losechesters can go without you for another hour," He groaned.

"The Losechesters, huh?" you laughed, finally laying back down beside him as he brought his other arm around to hug you to him, "I guess they can wait." Lucifer made a noise of relieved agreement and you threw an arm around him as well, tangling yourselves up like you had earlier in your sleep, "Luce?"

"Hmm?" He responded, his chest vibrating as he hummed.

"Tell me about heaven," You whispered and you thought you felt him smile as he considered it.

"What do you want to know, love?" Lucifer ran his thumb, comfortingly along your spine.

"What was it like before people, before hell and demons and all of this," The words tumbled from your lips. It had always been a question you wanted to ask since you met him. Real or dream, it would be interesting to see his answer.

"In the beginning," He began with added drama to his tired voice before he softened completely, "In the beginning it was just my father and my brothers, and me of course. My father, he loved us all and for a while we were happy," Lucifer paused and you felt his breath hitch, "I loved my father more than anything and he took a special interest in me. He loved me the most. Earth was his new project and I have to give it to him, he's got creative chops." You craned your neck to look up at him. Lucifer stared at the ceiling for a moment before meeting your gaze with glossy eyes.

"Did you help him, with his project?" you turned your gaze away, waiting for him to continue.

"We all played a part, offering ideas for various creatures. Gabriel, he had a special knack for rivers and waterfalls. I think it was him that convinced our father to cover the world with seas. But the sun was my idea, but Dad stole all the credit," He finished with a forced laugh that seemed more like a sigh. You breathed in deeply and looked back up at him. Genuine emotion was etched across his face and it pulled on your heart. Not knowing what to say, you brought your lips to his. It was a slow and lazy kiss that soon became hungry and passionate as you moved to straddle him. Lucifer nipped at your lower lips causing you to moan, allowing his tongue access. A loud knock made you jump, reluctantly pulling your lips away from his.

"(Y/N)," Sam called from the other side of the door, "You up? I could use your help." You sighed, your head falling into the crook of Lucifer's neck.

"I'll be there in a second," you called back, placing a final kiss to Lucifer's lips as Sam continued down the hall.

Sam was already in the library, surrounded by several opened books by the time you managed to get dressed and out of your room with only a few distractions.

"What can I do for you Sam?" you tapped your hands on the table with your words, trying your best 'customer service voice.' He looked up from his book as if you had snapped him out of a trance and cleared his throat before speaking.

"There's been a string of deaths in Michigan, mauled to death," Sam began explaining.

"Mauled to death? What makes you think it's our kind of thing?"

"Well, it didn't seem unusual at first but many of them were killed inside their homes and the police don't think they are related but two other people were reportedly killed—Sans hearts."

"Werewolves?" You concluded, taking the seat opposite of him.

"I think so, but not like the ones we've dealt with before," Sam reached over and pulled a book out from the pile beside him, flipping it around so that it was facing away from him before sliding it toward you. Faded gold lettering was carved into the book's warn cover in an unfamiliar tongue. Your eyes lit up as they fell to a singular familiar word.

"Sam, did you find this here," Excitement was evident in your tone.

"It was tucked away in one of the shelves," He grinned, equally as enthusiastic.

"You act like we aren't about to go toe to toe with a goddamn monster," Dean's exasperated voice caught you and Sam's attention. You merely rolled your eyes as he continued passing through the library, muttering 'nerds' under his breath with a playful laugh.

"So, Irish werewolves then," you turned your attention back to Sam who gave a quick nod. It was silly to get as excited as you did about new lore and creatures. Your job was to kill them, sure, but lore had always been a fascination of yours. It was a commonality of yours and Sam's that always had Dean rolling his eyes. Even in your dreams, it seemed you hunted as usual, "So," you began again, a smirk forming on your face, "How are things with you and Gabe?" You had almost forgotten that little piece of information but the Moose and the tricker angel? That was too good to pass up.

"Fine," Sam answered but you merely wiggled your eyebrows at him in a similar manner that Gabriel always did, making him roll his eyes like his brother but the slight blush that rose to his cheeks didn't escape your notice. You picked up an unrelated book and stood to place it back on the shelf when a violent scream rang out. The book fell to the floor as you jumped in surprise.

"Are you ok?" Sam's face contorted with worry as he looked at you.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" How could Sam not have heard that? Surely, all of fucking Kansas could have heard that.

"You didn't hea—" another scream cut you off as the sound rattled through your bones. You moved to cover your ears but the noise persisted. Your eyes latched onto Sam, trying to ground yourself. He was saying something that you couldn't hear through the screams. His face started to go blurry until he was only distinguishable by a skin toned shape. The room began to spin as you clamped your hands down harder on your ears. The floor had lost its solidity, opting instead to shift like loose sand until it gave out entirely. A blunt pain suddenly smacked against the side of your head as everything went black.


	3. Pre-hunt rituals

Sam came into focus first, forehead creased and wide eyes as he mouthed something that only registered in your ears as an indistinguishable echo. Lucifer appeared next to him, eyes glossy as he hovered over you. He was mouthing something too but you couldn't make it out. There was an odd wet sensation over your forehead that offered a cooling sensation to the pain in your head. A loud ringing slowly began to rise in your ears, making you close your eyes and cringe. It faded slowly into words as you opened your eyes.

"(Y/N)," Sam's tone was frantic but soft. Lucifer's cold hand caressed the right side of your face as you blinked hard at the almost overwhelming light just above their heads, "(Y/N)," his voice was a little louder this time. The throbbing pain began it's drum-like beat in your head again, pulling a groan from your lips as you pushed yourself up to a seated position.

"I'm alright," you managed, glancing at the leg of the table. That's probably the cause of your now aching head. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, scowling at the wet rag that fell into your lap as you moved it to the floor. Your hand clutched at the side of your head as you finally looked to Sam, Lucifer, Dean, and Cas, who had all crowded around you, nearly identical with their expressions.

"You don't look alright," Dean responded, moving in closer to look at you.

"I am," Lucifer's hand left your face and found your own hand, lacing his fingers gently with yours as he crouched beside you on the floor, "I just got a little light-headed. I probably just need to eat," You did your best to reason with Dean. To your surprise, he accepted it without question, muttering an 'alright' as Lucifer helped you to your feet.

"If you would prefer, I can help," Cas offered, raising a hand to place his fingers against your head but you stopped him before he could.

"That's alright Cas, thank you, but I'm fine," you gave him a small smile which he returned before following Dean from the room, "I'm gonna grab something to eat," you added, earning a nod paired with Sam's puppy dog eyes as you turned to go to the kitchen, Lucifer on your heels. Luckily there was leftover pizza in the fridge which you didn't even bother to heat up.

"I can always heal that head of yours," Lucifer offered as you took a large bite of cold pepperoni pizza. Your brow knitted in confusion for half a second. Of course, Lucifer still had his powers. Fantasies are called fantasies for a reason and it only made sense that your subconscious would grant him what he wanted most, his powers back.

"Nothing to heal," you reassured, still feeling the blunt drumming of pain in your temples. You took another bite and straddled a chair by the table as Dean walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, if you're feeling alright, wheels up in 30," He pointed a finger at you and you chewed faster than normal so that you could respond.

"Sure thing," He clapped his hands with a smile and left.

"You can always stay here," Lucifer reminded you, "I'm more than happy to stay with you," He took the seat next to you as he tried to convince you.

"Thanks, mom." he rolled his eyes at that, "But I'm going," you swallowed the last bite and stood abruptly from the table "I could use the fresh air, little bit of adrenaline," You added as you grinned at him, the smile slipping from your face as you turned to pack

Angels definitely come in handy, especially when you need three hunters and an entire car poofed 900 miles away. Thanks to a pack of missing silver bullets and a petty argument between Lucifer and Cas, Dean's 30 minutes soon became an hour but everyone was wheels down on the road about a mile from the town (due to Dean's suggestion that people may not like a car showing up out of thin air) Sam had given you just as the sun fell beneath the treeline. Only five minutes later and the Impala was pulling into a small roadside motel under a rusted pastel metal, square sign reading 'Tropical Star Motel' with a smaller square tacked onto the bottom with the word 'vacancies' lit up. Dean and Cas heading to the end of the building with a blue and white welcome sign nailed above one of the windows while the rest of you hauled the bags from the trunk. A few minutes later and the sun had given way to almost starless night as Dean and Cas reappeared with two sets of keys in their hands. For a couple seconds the parking lot lit up behind them as a beam of light shown from the door but they joined you in the dark as it shut with a barely audible 'clang.'

"Catch," Dean called as he tossed a set to you. You managed to catch them in your free hand with one quick swoop. He continued passed you, stopping to take one of the bags from Sam's hand, before walking over to one of the motel room doors near the center of the building with the rest of you just behind him, "This one is mine, Sammy's, and Cas's," Dean slotted the key into one of the doors and gestured to the one beside it with a slight lift of his hand that was holding the duffle bad, "And that one's all yours." Dean, Sam, and Cas disappeared into the room as you opened the door to your own, revealing a single bed draped in a floral pattern stolen from someone named Margaret's attic and a tv perched on a light wood table that matched a set of table and chairs in the corner. The carpet somewhere between brown and green and it was everything but glamorous, yet there was something about it that made you feel at ease. With years under your belt of moving from motel to motel, places like seemed almost felt homy. You threw your duffle bag beside the bed and another 'thud' followed it as Lucifer dropped one beside it. Almost immediately there was a knocking sound beside the tv that brought your attention to the closed connecting door to your left. You dragged your duffle over to prop the door open and followed Dean's beckoning wave into their room. He set a brown paper bag on the table and pulled out two six packs of beers.

"I've got beers and," Dean moved over to his duffle on one of the double beds and grabbed a bottle of jack daniels from it to set on the table, "Something stronger." Sam grabbed one of the beers and Dean handed one to Cas who muttered a "thank you" and took the other seat at the table. You and Lucifer migrated to the edge of one of the beds after grabbing beers of your own and Dean took the other. The rest of the night went quickly with old stories that eventually turned into tears from laughing too hard. The beers ran out quickly between the five of you and soon the bottle was cracked open and mostly empty, mainly at Cas's expense who took Sam's comment, "Dude, you could probably drink the bottle and be fine," as an actual challenge.

"Ok then, what would be a better pet than a phoenix," Sam asked sarcastically, "They never die and they are basically fireproof."

"Cerberus, obviously," you retorted, "A giant three-headed dog that scares the fuck out of people but is actually a giant softy, best pet ever," Sam opened his mouth to continue the argument but a loud hiccup made you both look over to Cas who, in turn, was staring very intently at Dean.

"I like you," He slurred, pointing a finger at Dean who was now staring curiously back at him.

"Ya man, I like you too," Dean laughed

"Your soul is," Cas seemed to lose his train of thought for a second, "So bright," Dean started to laugh again, "It's the brightest soul I've ever seen," Cas stood up from the table a bit too quickly, causing him to stumble a second before he walked over to Dean, "And your freckles," He was blatantly just poking Dean's face now.

"Ya ok, I think It's time we get you to bed," Dean decided, wrapping an arm around Cas to steady him.

"No," you interjected with a grin, "What are his freckles like Cas?" Dean gave you his best bitch face as Cas scooted his own face much closer to Deans, making a light rose color rise to his cheeks.

"Stars," Cas answered, running a finger along one 'constellation' near Dean's nose, "And his lips taste like honey," Cas informed you, making you snort.

"I think that's our queue," you laughed with your words as you and Lucifer stood to return to your own room. Cas mumbled something else you couldn't hear as you pushed the duffle from the door but it must have been hilarious or mildly embarrassing, probably both, given Sam's howl of laughter. You laughed too, throwing yourself onto the bed as Lucifer pulled his shirt over his head and settled in beside you.


	4. A Hairy Situation

The most alarming thing was how utterly mundane the neighborhood was. The house you found yourself outside of was a light washed blue tucked amongst others of various pale counterparts with bikes here and there to mark that kids lived there. It was something you would expect from a nine-to-five two kid family or the small town suburb your grandparents moved to instead of the hideout for two monsters that had already killed two more people since you arrived.

"Are you sure about this," Dean asked, throwing a cautionary glance your way. His hand rested on his gun, his body tense like everyone else's.

"I'd bet my life on it," technically you were, "A pack-like couple fits the MO. We have werewolves but two different species. Silver should work just the same but the woman is unable to transform at will or with the moon. She is basically a wolf so her instincts will be primal." Everyone's eyes were on you, listening as one rolled their shoulders or the other repositioned their silver knife in their hand.

"Primal?" Dean asked, "so she's basically just a big dog?"

"More like, the rip your throat out without an ounce of remorse or thought kind of primal," You clarified and Dean cleared his throat and rolled his eyes,

"Alright," Sam interjected with a satisfied tone, "let's go then." The five of you stepped forward to the house but you placed a hand on Sam and Dean, holding them back for a second. They both cast curious and confused looks down at you.

"I know we have a no chick-flick policy but I want you guys to know that you're brothers to me," you paused, going over the words in your head that you had rehearsed. Feelings were never really your forte, "You're my family and I love you guys. I don't say it enough," you spoke quickly and attempted a smile but you felt a pain in your gut.

"You know you're family to us." Dean placed a hand on your shoulder and smiled with sincerity but a hint of concern in his eyes.

"We love you too," Sam added, giving you that type of tight-lipped smirk he sometimes wore. You nodded and shoved Dean slightly with humor before the three of you quickly caught up with the angels, already scaling the front steps.

"FBI," Dean yelled, following two heavy knocks on the front door, "We just want to ask you some questions." There was a pause and then a loud smashing of glass.

"Window," was all that Cas said before darting around the house, trailed closely by the rest of you. Your gun was drawn now, held down as you sprinted. You caught a glimpse of a shaggy-haired man running as you turned the corner. He had left your sight but you kept an eye on Sam who ran just in front of you. The five of you sprinted through the twists and turns of the roads and houses till you finally stopped, catching your breath, as Cas had rounded the man into a corner.

"I've got'em," Dean moved in closer to Cas and pointed his gun at the man, who starred back with a sort of wild fear and anger in his eyes.

"Dean!" Sam's warning came too late as a large grey wolf lept from the shadows, sinking its claws into Dean as it tackled him to the ground. He held it at bay, straining his arms as the wolf nipped at his neck, viciously trying to rip whatever skin, its teeth could reach. You didn't hesitate to raise your gun, three shots ringing out as the silver bullets sank into her flesh. The wolf fell limp on Dean and he shoved her off as a deep growl emanated from the man. He took one step toward you and was ripped apart at the seams, exploding so quickly, that it made you jump. A quick glance to your right revealed Lucifer with the hand still raised in a snapping motion. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you watched Sam help Dean up, who was covered in a mixture of the two werewolves blood, as well as his own. Without a word, Cas snapped the bodies away, along with the layer of grime covering most of y'all. The walk back to the car was more of a slow saunter and to our surprise, Dean wore a smile on his face.

"Little hairy," he quipped, "but I'd say a damn success." it wasn't unusual to be relieved or even happy after a successful hunt. Saving lives, doing your job well, it was gratifying but it only made the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach grow. The characteristic pain was gone from behind his eyes. The wolf attack seemed to bear no resemblance to a hellhound attack in his past. That should have been fantastic. That should have been a goddamn blessing but it's the little things that make a person who they are. Lucifer walked beside you, with Sam and Cas just in front with Dean's cheerful strides leading the way.

"Hey Cas," you spoke softly, removing your hand from Lucifer's to tap Cas on the arm. Lucifer made no protest as Cas moved beside you and the two of you stepped to walk behind the group.

"Yes, (y/n)," his characteristic stoicism always made you smile.

"Thanks for helping us out back there"

"Of course," He squinted his eyes slightly.

"You're a great friend Cas and," you paused and gestured to Dean, "I'm glad you two chuck heads finally owned up to your feelings," you laughed but Cas simply smiled fondly.

"I am very glad too."

"I think I saw a convenience store down the road a bit. I'm gonna go get a beer and some snacks for the road," You said as you walked into the other motel room, tucking a knife into the back of your jeans and covering it with your shirt so it was hidden.

"Pie?" Dean asked with a humorously hopeful expression.

"Dean, that's not really road trip food," Sam threw a bitch face his way.

"I mean, if he thinks he can eat it and drive and, you know, not kill us, I'll pick one up," Sam scoffed and a smile plastered itself on Dean's face.

"Would you like some company," Cas offered.

"No, cooped up with you guys all the time, I don't mind a little alone time."

"Are you sure," Lucifer spoke up from his leaning position on the far wall and you gave him an appreciative smile.

"Ya, I'm sure," you didn't wait to walk out of the room and begin walking across the parking lot. The air had cooled slightly outside, sending a small chill up your spine when the wind blew. It wasn't dark yet but dusk was settling in, so that the flashing motel sign was more visible now. You had just made it to the road when you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes, one or two slipping down your cheeks with each step. Your hand came to rest on the base of your knife before leaving it again, several times.

"(y/n)," Lucifer called, making you turn to see him stopping in front of you. A deep sigh escaped your lips, "What's wrong," He stepped forward to wipe an escaped tear from your cheek.

"Luce, I have to go," you managed, bringing your hand back to touch the knife again.

"Go where?" His entire body language changed from slightly hunched over and worried to stiff, shoulders back and brow furrowed.

"I can't pretend anymore. This," you gestured widely around you, "Dream or Djinn or whatever the hell it is, isn't real." Lucifer stepped forward, taking your face in his hands.

"This," he placed a kiss on your forehead, "Is," your cheek, "Real," your other cheek, "I am real," he restated before connecting his lips to yours. For a moment you relaxed into him, returning the kiss until you broke away suddenly, pulling from his hold on you.

"No, you aren't." No sooner had the words left your lips, the ground began to sway beneath you, as did the world around you. You felt your feet sink into the pavement as if it were quicksand, holding you in an unforgiving embrace. You vision began to spin, blurring together as an all too familiar nausea overtook you, making you shut your eyes tight.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes shot open to meet Sam's hazel ones. Only a groan left your lips as the chains around your arms rattled with your slight movement. Your head was still spinning and you felt as if the moisture had been drained from your body. Sam moved and you felt a sharp prick in your neck as he removed something, "It's alright, We're gonna get you out of here."


	5. Matryoshka

The motel was strikingly similar to your dream world, other than the floral patterns replaced with a dark green stripe and the single bed now magically a double. Castiel's cool touch radiated through your head, cleary the static in your mind as the wound in your neck and overall emaciation healed in an instant.

"Thank you," you managed, giving Cas a small smile. You remembered Sam's face as he held you in his arms, the bare warehouse where only you had hung, and the brief glimpse you had of Lucifer as he basically ripped the Djinn apart. Sam and Cas were standing only a few feet back from you, staring at you carefully, but you could hear muffled tones of Dean and Lucifer from the connecting room.

"Cas," Dean called. You watched the angel fix his eyes on you, before disappearing into the other room, leaving Sam alone with you. The expression of pity in his 'puppy dog' eyes was undeniable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" There it is. The moose wanted you to talk about your feelings. You knew it should have been comforting but the last thing you wanted to do was talk about your little fantasy that you had spent the last few days—was it days? It felt like weeks.

"Not really," You weren't looking at him, favoring the carpet instead, "I think I'm gonna take a nap," you glanced up at him and he nodded, turning to go into the other room as you crawled under the sheets. Closing your eyes felt like bliss and sleep came quickly.

The room was empty when you woke up. Thanks to Cas your muscles didn't ache as you left the warm embrace of the blankets and walked barefoot to the window. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, illuminating the parking lot in an orange haze. You squinted at the point where another section of the motel blocked your view. You had just caught a glimpse of a tall shaggy-haired man turning the corner but you had no idea why Sam was over there. The sound of the bathroom door caught your attention. Turning around abruptly, you locked eyes with Sam's curious glance as he walked out. Apparently, that wasn't Sam outside.

"Oh, you're awake," He smiled.

"Ya, feeling much better." It was true, you no longer felt the overpowering nausea or the deep ache in your bones but your heart was a much different story. That same pity pervaded his glance again but the opening and closing of a door from the other room caused him to look away from you.

"Sounds like Dean just got back with food, hungry?"

"Starving." you followed him into the connecting room. It reminded you of the night you had spent in the other motel, drinking and laughing with them all. But, no one really seemed in the laughing mood tonight. Lucifer had reluctantly taken the hamburger that Dean reluctantly handed him and moved to stand in the far corner of the room. Of course, he had to eat now that his powers were weak. Cas was eating too, not that he had too, but he would never turn his nose up a burger.

"Here," Dean handed you a warm, silver wrapped, packet and you took it gratefully, "Nothing like a little greasy goodness to get you back on your feet," you smiled at that, taking a seat on the bed closest to Lucifer. It wasn't a conscious decision, there was something about his presence that still drew you to him.

"Mhmm," you mumbled as you bit into the burger, giving Dean a smile that made you look like a Chipmunk, pulling a small laugh from him. You could feel his cool presence behind you. It took you a moment to register the chill on your skin was from his hand wrapping around the back of your arm. The others didn't notice his small reassuring squeeze as he walked passed and threw away his wrapper, returning to the wall without a word. You felt the static in your mind return as you finished off your burger. He had touched you. It wasn't an accident either. It seemed very deliberate and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. He had never done that before—not in real life at least—sure, there were brief brushes of the shoulder but nothing purposely comforting. You coughed, pushing yourself up off the bed and throwing your own wrapper away, "I'm gonna jump in the shower real quick," you told no one and all of them, quickly making your way into the other room and into the bathroom. The sound of the steady stream of water was almost meditative, pulling you in like the rush of a waterfall. You looked into the small mirror above the sink for a second before removing your shirt. Another glance into the mirror and your breath caught in your throat, "God," you mumbled, ghosting your hand over the smooth skin of your stomach. Tears leaked down your cheeks.

~~~~~~ 7 Years Ago ~~~~~~

"Go on, cry for me," the man's voice was like throwing gravel into a grinder as he rubbed his thumb along your cheek. The rope securing our wrists and ankles to the chair had already rubbed your skin raw. Your body betrayed your will, tears following his orders as they dripped from your eyes. Your jeans were caked in sweat, blood, and dirt, as you sat clothed from the waist up only in your bra, "There you go," He cooed as the blade in his hand swiped once more across your stomach, leaving fire in its wake. You cried out, making a deep laugh reverberate from his chest. Your mind couldn't help but flick to the image of the other bodies in the yard, lifeless as you were sure you would become soon. If it hadn't been for your excellent ability to conceal weapons, you wouldn't have made it out of their alive. What was it that Dean had said? "Demons I get. People are crazy," something like that. You managed to leave that barn alive but the various scars had remained through every angel healing and every dulling year.

Tears continued to fall as you angrily tugged on your shirt, not bothering to turn off the water. Cas and Lucifer's eyes snapped up to you as you rushed out of the bathroom, only stopping to grab a knife from your bag, before charging out of the motel room. Immediately the rain-soaked you through your clothes and blurred your vision but you didn't stop moving, clutching your knife in a vice grip

"(Y/N)," A familiar voice called out from somewhere in front of you. Slowly a form came into view through the rain as you stepped forward.

"Sam?" At first, you thought he had followed you but he was in a different shirt and jeans then he was in only moments before, hair slicked down over his forehead from the rain, "You have to listen to me, this isn't real. You were captured by a Djinn. Dean and I, we're looking for you."

"I know," your words seemed to surprise him, now that you were close enough to gauge his expression. His eyes caught sight of the knife in your hand, water running from the blade, "How did you find me?" you were slightly yelling over the rush of the rain on the pavement.

"Dream root," Sam moved to place a hand on your arm, "Do you know where you are being held?"

"I-" you began to try to explain the dreams, the warehouse, maybe even try to remember where you were before the djinn attacked you but a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"(y/n)," you didn't have to turn around to know who was speaking, but you did anyway, eyes locking with Lucifer's as he said your name again, softly, almost like a plea.

"Lucifer," It sounded like an angry question as it left Sam's lips.

"You can stay with me," was all he said, extending a wet hand to you as Sam squeezed your shoulder protectively and the grip on your knife tightened.


	6. Dream Root

"And she just disappeared?" Dean snarled at Lucifer and shoved him so hard that he stumbled back. You had been scouting the area with Lucifer, in search of the Djinn's lair but you had left him on his own to explore an alley, but five minutes was enough for the Djinn to catch you by surprise. Lucifer's eyes showed a tint of red as he fell back, ready to lunge for Dean and looking as if he'd go for the throat. Luckily, Cas stepped in, glaring at the two of them as he used his body to block their access to each other.

"Dean there is no use pointing fingers," apparently there was some use, as Castiel shot daggers at Lucifer with his eyes, before turning his attention back to Dean, "We know the Djinn has her, we just need to figure out where."

"You can't locate her?" Sam sighed from across the room. It wasn't really a question but Cas answered regardless.

"She has identical markings on her ribs that I gave you and Dean. She is hidden from angels. That includes me," Cas answered. With another glare to Lucifer, Dean sat on the edge of one of the motel beds with a defeated groan, bringing one hand up to rub the back of his neck. It seemed as if literal steam would rise from Lucifer's ears as he ground his teeth together from the side of the room, pacing against the wall farthest from everyone else. Sam muttered something under his breath that no one quite caught, except for Dean who cocked his head at him.

"Did you say, Bella?" He asked Sam incredulously, snapping him out of his thought process.

"Uh, ya," Sam paused, clearly thinking something over, "I was thinking about Bella.."

"You were thinking about Bella?" Dean scoffed, cutting him off as Sam glared at him with his best bitch face.

"Not Bella, but the dream root she gave us to contact Bobby. We don't have any anymore but if we could find some, I'm guessing a dream and a Djinn's dream world are pretty much the same thing."

"That stuff taste like ass," Dean muttered under his breath but he nodded at the idea in agreement.

"Cas, do you think you could get your hands on some?" Sam asked the angel who nodded at him with a furrowed brow.

"I'm positive I could acquire some but it may take some time."

"We don't have time," Lucifer countered, breaking his silence.

"And who's fault is that," Dean challenged, locking their eyes again with mutual deadly glares.

"I will return as soon as possible," Cas ended the conversation and with a fluttering sound, he was gone.

With another sound of swirling wind and feathers, Castiel reappeared in the center of the motel room, coat collar upturned and hair slightly out of place as he held up a small jar. He carried with him the sent of wind and rain with something else not quite recognizable. He had been gone for nearly twenty minutes and everyone in the room had remained relatively still, except for pacing on Lucifer's part and the ever-growing antsiness of Dean's right leg. Sam was busy typing away on his laptop, hoping to gain any information on Djinn and dream root that he didn't already know.

"You got it?" Dean half questioned and half observed, as his eyes flickered from the jar to Cas.

"I was only able to retrieve enough for a single dose since we have little time," Castiel explained upon arrival, setting the dream root on the table as he brushed his coat down, not bothering to fix his wind disheveled hair. Dean thought for a brief moment that he looked almost as he had in the barn nearly a decade ago. Lucifer had slowly made his way over to them as they spoke and picked the jar up with a loud swiping sound of the glass against the wooden surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dean stood abruptly from the bed as Sam tensed in his seat, eyes widened with alarm.

"Like Cassy said," He held up the jar and shook it slightly for emphasis, his jaw still set tight despite his more sassy tone, "There's enough for one and I think we all know who's more capable."

"Like hell," Dean snarled, taking the jar from his hand, "We aren't going to let you fuck around in our friend's brain."

"Last time I checked, you weren't an angel anymore. Dean and I have done this before so if anyone is capable it's us," Sam hadn't raised his voice much but he bit his words out at Lucifer." Dean quietly passed the jar to Sam and left the motel room. Lucifer's expression was playing between hurt and pure furry as Castiel stared at him curiously.

"I didn't know you cared, brother," Castiel lowered his voice as he questioned Lucifer, his surprise evident in his tone.

"I don't," Lucifer growled back, "I just want this to be over with," with an exasperated gesture to no one he returned to his previous position against the far wall, leaning his back against it just as the door opened again with Dean carrying a styrofoam cup of hot water.

The scene that unfolded was like something out of a gothic novel, ashen skies with rainfall so heavy that you could only see a foot or two in front of you. If you didn't know better, you could be surrounded by mountains or dense forest instead of a crumbling motel building, illuminate only by a hazy neon light. You watched the rain drip from his hand as you stood motionless. A part of you wanted to reach out and take it, wave goodbye to Sam and be done with it but you couldn't. Instead, you turned to face Sam, meeting his squinting gaze, partially from the rain and partially from the sheer confusion of what was happening in front of him.

"(Y/N), He's not real," he tried and you remained stoic.

"I know," It felt as if the rain was seeping into your bones, causing you to shiver. You kept your attention on Sam, though, you could feel Lucifer's presence behind you, "Me and Lucifer were looking around an abandoned part of the town. There's a small warehouse there. I think that's where the Djinn has me." It felt weird coming out of your mouth. You weren't here, no, you were strung up somewhere in a distant town and Lucifer would know—not the looming figure behind you—but the real Lucifer who was probably cooped up with the boys somewhere. None of this had been real, that was something you knew from the moment you opened your eyes there but here and now, whatever illusion was left, came crashing down around you.

"When Dean was captured by the Djinn he said he got out b—" You pulled up the hem of your shirt, cutting him off as he peered at the handle of your blade tucked into your waistband.

"Go, Sam," you stated firmly and he furrowed his brow in confusion. You swore a flash of sadness shown in his eyes.

"Please, I don't know what the Djinn created but whatever it is, I promise you it isn't real. We need you, (y/n)." Sam began his plea and you smiled.

"That's not what I meant. Go and I'll meet you on the other side." He hesitated but after considering your promise, he disappeared, leaving you alone in the rain with Lucifer. After a deep breath, you turned to face him and he took no time moving closer so that his torso was just shy of touching yours. The rain had lessened now, but streams of it still trickled from his hair.

"You can stay," He spoke softly, running a hand up your arm.

"I can't," You didn't look up at him, instead of keeping your eyes on the pavement, painfully aware of the cold metal against your skin, "This is amazing but it's just in my head. I'm strung up in some godforsaken warehouse dying right now and I have a family I need to get back to."

"A family?" There was a sharp change in Lucifer's tone, causing your eyes to snap up to his as he scoffed, "Two miserable brothers and a broken angel...Not to mention a devil who will never love you." It was Lucifer's voice but he spoke like someone you didn't know. Maybe when the fantasy fails, it's threats as a last resort. Your gaze turned fiery as you stepped back from him.

"I love them," you answered, slowly moving your hand to your waistband, "And I can never force someone to love me, I can't hold that against them, and I sure as hell can't sit on my ass in a fantasy when my family is in danger," with your final words you brought the knife up, angled toward yourself. Lucifer lunged forward but with one quick motion, you pushed the blade into your gut.


	7. Cold World

Air rushed into your lungs as if you had just managed to keep from drowning. Your eyes snapped open at the same time you inhaled, blurry vision quickly focusing on the room around you. The Djinn was nowhere to be seen but his damage was clear. A young brunette woman hung to your right, dangling motionless from her chains. You couldn't tell if she was alive but if she was breathing it was shallow and she wouldn't last long. A brief thought passed through your mind that she was the source of those screams in your nightmares. The warehouse was dark except for a few rays of light that were cast across the grimy black floor from a thin paneled window on the top of the adjacent wall. A thud reverberated throughout the room. Sam and Dean soon followed after. Your heart jumped when you saw them, relaxing slightly against the chains. Their faces were grim but Sam offered a small smile as he pulled the needle from your neck and lifting your body up to unhook your wrists from the chains securing you.

"Sam," your voice was so hoarse that you surprised yourself.

"We've got you," He spoke softly, with reassurance, but his worried gaze betrayed your condition, "Can you walk?" you gaze a small nod as he supported the majority of your weight, guiding you across the room. Cas was shaking his head at Sam, with one hand on the other girl in the room. She was dead you assumed. You could hear a muffled mix of voices from somewhere to your right. It was only when Sam ushered you closer to the door that you saw Dean and Lucifer in the corner, Lucifer's hand securing the Djinn to the wall as Dean's still rested firmly on the base of the silver knife through its heart, mingling the lamb's blood with the monster's. Your mind lingered on the image of them and it wasn't till Sam shifted his weight that you noticed the Impala, back door opened and waiting for you. He helped you in and a sigh escaped your lips as your bruised back rested against the leather, a soft heat on your legs as the sun shone through the window. Muffled voices soon began what sounded like a conversation or possibly an argument outside of the car but you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. No thoughts fully formed, opting instead to swirl around in segments like a haze in your brain as you breathed, softly and shallowly. It felt different than before. It was worse, that you knew. Everything ached and an all present nausea and exhaustion lurked through each and every fiber of your being but, in a way, it gave you a small amount of solace that you were actually within reality now. The opening of the door by your feet caught your attention and you opened your eyes but only craned your neck slightly to see who was there. It didn't really matter anyway, Dean's voice was very familiar to you as he leaned his head through the door.

"Cas is gonna take us back to the bunker, you just sit tight. Try and stay awake for me." He closed the door again and the car swade as if it had been thrown into a rough sea. Flying while lying down turns out to be much less nauseating than flying while standing up. Another moment passed and Dean was helping you slide out of the car and more or less carrying you into the bunker and to your room. The lamp was still on and you guessed you had forgotten to turn it off before you left. The gray blanket was upturned on the side where your pillow was. Of course, you thought. It was only you that slept here. You propped yourself up ever so slightly against the headboard as Castiel followed Dean in.

"(Y/N)," he greeted with a furrowed brow and cautious tone so that it appeared as more of a question, "I seem to have drained my grace significantly but it was imperative we get you home immediately. I can heal you slightly but it will take you several days to fully recover." you nodded and he placed two fingers against your forehead. What you could only describe as a cool heat, radiated throughout your body and you felt your chest lighten slightly.

"Thank you," you managed, though it still came out as a hoarse whisper.

"It isn't much, I apologize. You should get some rest." With that, he turned, closing the door behind him. It took less than a minute for you to succumb to the gnawing exhaustion, collapsing against your pillow in a deep sleep.

"How is she?" Sam asked, taking the beer Dean handed him as Castiel appear in the kitchen.

"She'll be alright. We're glad we got to her when we did." Dean hummed in agreement with his lips pressed to the bottle. Lucifer had surprisingly not gone off to some corner of the bunker but he remained silent from his seat at the table. A few minutes passed in silence, except for a few sighs and shuffling of positions.

"Sam," Dean broke the silence as everyone directed their attention to his brother, "What did you see when you went into her dream?" it was a question that had crossed everyone's mind, including Sam and he took a second before replying.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. It didn't exactly seem like a Utopia though. I think she was in a motel parking lot actually."

"A motel parking lot, seriously?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Djinn create fantasies that will entrap their prey. Often, those happen to be fantasies but nightmares are possible," Castiel added.

"It was raining though," Sam continued as he pieced together his own recollection, "and He was there," Sam's eyes flicked over to Lucifer who returned the gaze at hearing himself mentioned.

"He was there?"

"Lucifer was there?" Dean and Castiel's questions overlapped each other and Sam nodded.

"He was behind her. I couldn't make out everything he said but he was clearly trying to keep her there." _Keep her there_ , the words reverberated in Lucifer's mind. Even in your fantasies, he was a monster—or worse—he was the headliner in your nightmare.

"Great, first you get her kidnapped and then you torture her in her sleep," Dean threw up a hand and glared icily at Lucifer. There almost an audible shift in the room as Castiel and Sam tensed, anticipating another petty fight between the two. Castiel stood when Lucifer did, his eyes not quite glowing but glaring with a red haze. Instead of moving toward Dean, however, he simply left the kitchen quickly, presumingly to his room he had been occupying for the past few weeks as a loud slamming of the door echoed down the hall.

Your clock flashed 10:30am the following day as you slung your legs over the side of the bed. Your body still felt like it had been hit by a truck, but more than that your mind wouldn't quiet down. Suddenly, you stood a little too quickly, having to steady yourself against the nightstand to keep from falling over. Slowly and without looking you lifted the hem of your shirt so that your torso was exposed. After taking a deep breath, you allowed your gaze to fall downward. You exhaled as your eyes rested on the several jagged scars across your skin.

"Thank God," you sighed, letting the fabric fall back over you. The dryness in your throat was stark when you spoke making you cough slightly. A throbbing began in your temples as you padded your way to the kitchen, glad to find it empty. Trying to explain what happened was really not something you wanted to do right now, if ever. Finding a clean glass, you filled it with water and took a sip, pressing one hand to your temple as the pounding in your head persisted. With another sip, you turned to retreat back to your room only to come face to face with a certain blonde angel. He was only a few feet from you, gazing down on your curiously. Usually, you would smile at the very least, maybe make a snarky comment in good fun but you couldn't bring your eyes to meet his. The throbbing in your head was like a drum now, and you brought your gaze to the ground, gripping the glass tighter. He stepped forward to say something but you quickly shuffled out of the kitchen. Lucifer watched you overt eye contact and leave without a word. He couldn't help the hurt expression on his face as the words floated around his head once more.

 _Keep her there._


	8. Recovering

It had been six days. At least, you assumed it had been. There was a good possibility it was less or probably more. What you were sure of though, is that you had hardly left your room since your encounter with Lucifer in the kitchen. The boys took turns bringing you food and attempting to talk to you but you would tell them you were fine, just tired every time. At first, they had bought it but you knew every one of them had gone through too much to not know what you were doing first hand. Sleep came frequently but not for very long. Every time you closed your eyes you would wake only an hour or two later, drenched in sweat as fear gripped your heart. You made your way over to the mostly blank wall to your left, running your fingertips across the material, noting the firmness under your touch. This had become a habit of yours, reminding yourself that it was all real, feeling the walls or the floor beneath your feet. Often, you found yourself running a hand across your torso, absentmindedly feeling for the scared flesh across it.

To pass the time, you had poured over the lore books stashed in your room but since you turned the last page the previous night, you had been dreading leaving your four walls to find another in the library. The throbbing in your head caught your attention as you groaned, lifting a hand to press against your right temple. Alright, book and pain meds, you thought, sighing before heading down the hall. Dean's voice floated from the kitchen as you passed it but you couldn't make out what he said as you hurried passed. It was midday, judging by the clock on your dresser so everyone was awake and actively around the bunker, making it nearly impossible to make your journey without running into one or more of them. Sure enough, Sam was sitting in the library, looking over a book you didn't recognize. He glanced up casually but his eyes widened as he saw you. He took a moment before speaking, clearing his throat unnecessarily as you continued to walk over to the bookshelf.

"How are you," he asked carefully, standing and walking over to you, but making sure to stay a foot or two back.

"I'm fine Sam, just-"

"Tired," he cut you off, solidifying your assumption that they no longer believed your lie. You didn't look at him, thumbing through the books instead.

"I finished the book I was reading so I just wanted to get another one." Sam stared at you, his gears turning as he decided what to say next. Instead, he nodded and you felt his presence recede. Only, it returned in a matter of seconds.

"Here," Sam cleared his throat again and you forced yourself to turn to look at him, "I found this one the other day, might be something you'd like," Your eyes flickered down to the worn cover as he placed it in your hands. Your chest tightened and you swallowed hard as you opened the book, revealing the gold lettering, "Irish lycanthropy," He clarified, a slight uptick in his voice, and you shut the book a little too loudly, shoving it back into his hands. One of your hands instinctively grasped at your torso beneath the loose fabric of your t-shirt as the other grabbed another book from the shelf. In an instant you felt like you couldn't breathe, the rough skin under your fingertips the only thing keeping you grounded as you turned to hurry back into your room, "(Y/N)," you heard Sam's distant voice call as you shut the door behind you, letting the book slip to the floor as you collapsed onto your knees.

You weren't sure when you fell asleep but you awoke to the red numbers flashing 6:15 am on your nightstand. It was strange. For the past several days you had hardly felt like moving at all and to step outside of your room was not a welcomed thought, however, as soon as your eyes shot open, taking in the mostly darkened texture of your ceiling, you were restless. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you threw on some old work out clothes you had bought with Sam and laced up your tennis shoes before creaking open your door and quickly making your way down the hall, up the stairs, and out into the open air. The brisk air rushed against your face and chilled your lungs as you ran, letting your focus fixate on the sound of your shoes against the hard ground. Every morning you repeated this, running for a few miles down the road and occasionally through the woods. You would never have considered yourself an early riser in any sense, instead, you preferred to practically live amongst your sheets for as long as possible and you mocked Sam along with Dean when he would come bouncing back into the motel room, wide awake and smiley after his workouts but you began to understand it now. It was something to do, something to keep your mind blank and get you out of the confines of the room where your thoughts had a tendency to close the walls in on you.

Three days passed in a similar fashion of waking up just as the sun would peak up over the horizon and going for a run, before grabbing some food from the kitchen and retreating to your room. But on the fourth day, there was no ignoring the louder than usual growl in your stomach and luckily for you it had been a slightly later start than usual so you returned to the bunker to find the intoxicating smells of bacon and freshly brewed coffee wafting from the kitchen. Sam had his back to you as he poured himself a mug full and, to your surprise, Dean was awake and flipping something on the stove. Cas was the first to spot you, his seated statue becoming slightly rigid as your eyes locked briefly and you couldn't help but wonder, for a moment, where Lucifer was.

"(Y/N)," Cas said your name almost like a question as the other pairs of eyes turned to you.

"Something smells good," you smiled and turned to Dean who, after a small hesitation, returned you smile and nodded.

"Bacon and pancakes," He answered, sliding the sizzling bacon from the pan to a plate already stacked with bacon. With a small nod to Sam, you made your way over to the coffee pot and filled up a mug with the steaming liquid before taking a seat quietly at the table. Dean and Cas carried on a conversation about something to do with Cas never watching Star Trek with Sam offering a word here and there but you could feel their eyes, or more like, their purposeful aversion of their eyes as you ate silently. After everyone had finished, Dean and Cas collected the plates and placed them in the sink as everyone lingered awkwardly in the kitchen.

"I'm alright," you finally spoke up, all heads turned abruptly to you as the silence broke, "I just needed a little time but I'm fine, I promise," your hand unconsciously moved to rest on your torso and Sam's eyes flickered down to it but you didn't notice.

"Alright," Dean answered, "If you say you're fine then I believe you but you don't have to be. Take your time kid," He brought a hand down on your shoulder as he finished his sentence and you smiled as a thank you, before turning to leave.

"(Y/N)," Sam's voice stopped you in the hall and you turned around to meet him, "I, um, I saw you with," He gestured weakly to your torso and your eyes glanced down to your scars, covered by your led zeppelin shirt, "What happened there?" He asked slowly as if he was questioning himself as well as you.

"What happened there doesn't matter," you eventually answered, attempting to swallow but finding your mouth dry.

"I know it can be difficult and you don't have to tell me now but It's clearly affecting you and need to tell someone eventually." His brow was knitted with worry as he gave you a look he usually reserved for Dean.

"No it's," you attempted to explain, trying to find the right words, "Do you remember when you got your soul back Sam? You kept seeing things and you would press the wound on your hand to remind yourself that it wasn't real?" Your question was more rhetorical but he nodded regardless and you lifted the hem of your shirt to show him the scars there, "When I was there, I realized it wasn't real because I didn't have these but it felt real Sam. What happened there didn't matter. It's the fact that I feel like I can't even trust the floor beneath me like I could open my eyes and still be in that-," you cut yourself off as a sob threatened to break from you and a pair of arms wrapped themselves around you. You breathed in deeply as he hugged you tightly.

"This is real, I promise," He reassured you.

It was several hours later when you decided to wander into the war room for no particular reason other than trying to keep yourself up and awake. Sam was sitting attentively forward with his laptop open just enough to keep the site on but closed enough so that he could lean over it comfortably. Dean zipped up a duffle bag that he had placed on the table as Cas and Lucifer stood on either side of him.

"Should be simple enough," you heard Sam conclude as you walked up.

"What should be simple enough?" You looked toward Dean for answers who had straightened up almost in alarm at your presence. Lucifer was watching you and you pretended not to notice his gaze or the moment he stiffened and clenched his jaw as he looked away from you.

"We have an uh case," Sam answered as Dean slung the bag onto his back.

"Nothing me and Cas can't handle," Dean reassured you.

"Yes, Dean, Lucifer, and I have it under control. You should rest," Cas added. All you had been doing was resting. At first, it was comforting, relying on isolation and sleep but those four walls of yours seemed to be getting smaller and smaller over the last four days. Running had made it better and hunting was second nature to you. Whenever anything happened that made you want to shut yourself away, hunting had been your outlet and this was no exception.

"I'll go with you," it wasn't meant as an offer or a question but they all dissented.

"(Y/N), they have it covered. After what you've been through…"

"Sam, after what I've been through, what I need now is just some normalcy, so what do you got for me," You cut him off and waited for one of them to break the silence as you stepped forward and leaned against the table.

"Series of attacks in a hotel and reportings of cold spots and odd sights, We're thinking ghost cut and dry," Dean finally responded and you nodded. You met his firm glare that clearly conveyed his disapproval with the idea of you going with them.

"Dean, just let me have this," you spoke softly, still holding eye contact. You and Dean were different in many ways but you dealt with pain very similarly, avoidance until avoidance wasn't an option and he knew as well as anyone that throwing yourself into work was sometimes the only way to get by in their life. Finally, he gave a curt nod.

"Grab your bag."


	9. A Hand Up

It was just past 4am when the Impala's tires rolled up beside the brick building, not quite threadbare, but surely making its own slow steps towards it. Clouds mostly blocked the moon's light, creating a somber haze over the hotel that cast a shadow of the car onto the wall, a distorted shade of black against the whitewashed portion of the bricks that stretched up a few feet and faded into a Georgia clay complexion. It seemed, to you, that the building could have very easily moonlighted as a prison, with the protruding black bars from the upper windows, pretending to be balconies, and the sunken middle, characterized by large columns the same shade as the dusky brick. For the first time since you woke up in the Djinn's little fantasy, you felt like you were where you belonged and the gnawing question of the truth around you dulled to an inaudible whisper as you and the boys made your way through the front doors, leaving everything behind for now, except for the few weapons hidden amongst your clothes. The air inside felt like tepid water, thick and uncomfortably teetering on the edge of warm and apparently noticed as you were all created by a women's frustrated groan as she hit her fist against a floral patterned wall.

"Come on, you fucking thing," Her shrill voice sounded just as the bell above your head signaled your presence, "Ahh, right," She suddenly seemed satisfied with the thermostat she was verbally abusing and turned with a curt smile, smoothing down the carefully tucked in blue blouse she wore.

"Afternoon," Dean greeted as he neared the waist-high wooden desk the women stood behind. Her stance became slightly more rigid as he neared but she spread her lips into a wider smile, nodding as a few blonde curls fell around her face from her tightly kept bun, no doubt an act of betrayal in her eyes, "two rooms for my crew here," He gestured loosely to those behind him, you just to his right and Sam, Cas, and Lucifer falling in behind the two of you, though Lucifer's eyes were chained on a painting, with his back mostly to her.

"How long?" The women, whose name tag you could now see read 'Marie,' slid over a thin leather book and looked up questioningly as she proceeded to open it, ready to copy down the answer.

"Just for the night," Satisfied, she quickly scribbled something in pen and retrieved two keys from the wall behind her, handing them to the two of you.

"Thank you," both you and Dean added. She only nodded with the same smile as before and you thought you saw Dean throw Sam a curious glance out of the corner of your eye.

"Well, It's not every day we get a classic horror movie case," Dean chimed, as the five of you made your way down the carpeted halls, so narrow that if two of you stood shoulder to shoulder, you would brush up against the peeling floral wallpaper, illuminated by the large lights that lined the molding of the walls near the ceiling.

"A horror movie?" Cas questioned, only to be cut off by Sam.

"Dean, our whole life is a horror movie," There was a bitter laugh that emanated from his tone as he scoffed at the idea.

"I mean a good old classic horror film, Sammy, creepy hotel, ominous mist in the air, mysterious-" He was cut off as all of you slowly filed passed an older woman in a maid's uniform, as she looked up with a curious and hard glare from her cart, deciding in an instant you were not worth her words and disappearing into the room she was supposedly cleaning, dropping a hand towel in the process, before the door shut with a force that vibrated the lights above you.

"Mysterious bloody rags?" you finished with a hint of disgust as you picked up the towel by its corner, the red soaked rag hanging from your pinched fingertips.

"It's starting to look like a ghost isn't the problem here," Lucifer quipped, sarcastically from behind Cas.

"Maybe not," you half whispered as you carefully tucked the rag into your jacket pocket, glad that getting blood out of clothes was, by now, a well-oiled skill of yours. Lucifer, meanwhile, had fallen silent, his eyes on you as everyone moved down the hallway. Two words, sure, and only half directed at him, but the first words you had said to him since they brought you back from the warehouse. After turning another corner, the doors matching the numbers on your keys appeared but no one entered.

"If something else is at the bottom of this, we are gonna need to do more research and this place doesn't strike me as a wifi hotspot. There's a dinner up the road, why don't Cas and I set up there, see what we can find," Sam glanced back to Cas who nodded and then turned back around to you and Dean.

"Sounds good," you answered as Lucifer and Dean both nodded, " but we should probably grab a few things before we snoop around anymore."

"Alright," Sam groaned as he slid into the booth, red torn vinyl creaking under his weight. He opened his laptops and pulled up the articles on the hotel.

"Hiya lovelies, anything I can getcha?" The waitress asked, a thick accent marking her words as her dark red lips upturned in a polite smile, making the laugh lines on her face more prominent.

"Two, black coffees," Cas ordered, starring a bit too intently and speaking with a sort of nervous rigidness that made Sam grin as he briefly looked up at the interaction, then back to his computer screen, "What do you suppose it is?"

"Uh, I'm not sure yet," Sam leaned back, looking up at Cas, "I'm not ruling out a ghost, Cold spots, reported attacks by an apparition, it all seems to point to a ghost. I wasn't sure it was a case at all because the reports were anonymous but after looking around that place," He shook his head, "There's definitely something going on there."

"Here ya go," The women set two coffees on the table, only to turn and leave as a familiar face walked through the diner doors, cutting off Sam's mumbled 'thank you.'

"I'm trying a broader search to see-" Sam stopped speaking and typing as his brow furrowed at the screen, "To see if something like this would pop up," He turned the laptops around for Cas to see. It was a seemingly random post about a girls brother going missing and had the town cited as the last place she got a call from him.

"Do you think others, like him, have gone missing?"

"It's worth looking into," With a swivel of his laptop and a swig of the throat-burning coffee, he went back to work.

Armed, with a duffle bag of weapons, mostly iron and salt, the three of you roamed the hallways once more.

"Any news from Sam and Cas," you asked, your fingers playing at the iron dagger weighing down the right side of your waistband.

"Nothing yet," Dean poked his head around the corner before you all rounded it.

"I still don't see why we can't shake down the women at the front desk, or the maid," Lucifer waived his hand in frustration at the two of you, "A little maiming goes a long way," both you and Dean glared back at him.

"We don't even know if they're involved. We aren't letting your greasy fingers on innocent people."

"Dean," your alarmed tone cut off Lucifer's retort as they moved their attention to you, "your breath," He seemed to realize what you meant as your own icy cloud of air billowed from your mouth and the lights began to flicker overhead. Your hand had just closed around the dagger as a man stepped out from a wall. Clad in a grey suit, the sunken brown eyes glared menacingly at the three of you, his gray hair forming a nest about his head. Without a second glance, it sprung forward, opening its mouth to emit something between an inhuman scream and growl. Dean stepped forward, instinctually raising his gun at it, only for the weapon to be slung down the hall, followed by a painting that flew from its nailed position, directly into Lucifer, knocking him to the ground. In the chaos, you swung blindly with the dagger, managing to dissipate the ghost, only for it to appear a few feet in front of you before you could blink. It seemed as if it would charge again, taking a "step" forward only to halt entirely, the man's head lifting to attention like a dog hearing a whistle. With another quick glance to the three of you, it turned and disappeared back into the wall.

"Well, it's definitely a ghost," Dean groaned, picking his gun off of the floor. You nodded, extending a hand to Lucifer, who stared at from his place on the ground, before slowly accepting it, his cold skin briefly meeting yours as you helped him up.

"So get this," Sam exclaimed, catching Castiel's attention away from his coffee, he was grimacing at, "there have been 7 disappearances over the past four months. That's almost 2 a month but no one seemed to notice because they're all from neighboring towns but one thing they all have in common, they were passing through this town and I bet they stayed at that hotel too," Sam explained.

"If the ghost was taking people or killing them, wouldn't there be reports of bodies?" Castiel reasoned, as he cocked his head in confusion and thought.

"Not necessarily," once again, Sam turned the screen towards Cas, this time showing an article of the hotel's remodeling a few years back with the owners on the front.

"That's the woman we saw at the hotel, She's the owner," Castiel looked at the picture of the woman, a few years younger than the one he had seen, her hair still tightly kept, with a smile that seemed more grimacing than a frown.

"One of them," Sam interjected, placing a finger above the man beside her, "She owns the hotel with her husband, or owned, he died five months ago," Cas's eyes closed in on the gray-haired man, staring blankly into the camera, his arm wrapped around his wife, in a rigid manner, clad in a dark grey suit.


	10. Minute Hand on Murder

"No one's hurt?" Cas questioned for the second time as he and Sam walked across the parking lot. The early rays of the sun were beginning to shine over the pavement, stopping just shy of the hotel's entrance. Sam blinked heavily, trying to mentally will the slight tiredness that was setting in due to the lack of sleep. Luckily, the coffee was taking effect.

"Dean said everyone's fine but they still don't know where the ghost disappeared to or why." Cas was less than satisfied with the answer but nodded regardless.

"The woman could be involved," He stated, glancing to his side, as if to check if someone was there, before returning his gaze to the taller man.

"I was thinking the same thing. From what Dean said, the ghost matches her husband in the picture, so she has to know something at least," Sam stopped speaking, his fingers latching around the door handle, as he turned to look back at Cas, "But we should be careful." With another nod, Sam squeezed and pulled back the heavy panel of wood, stepping over the threshold to the signaling chime of the overhead bell. The phrase Speak of the devil echoed in Sam's head as his eyes met the woman behind the counter. She paid no attention to him, instead, her eyes were fixed on the book in her hands. Sam recognized it as the check-in book she had written their information in a few hours ago, instead of writing, however, she seemed to be erasing something neither he nor Cas could see clearly. He wondered briefly if she had slept at all as he peered over her floral dress that replaced her blouse and new face of makeup, with added red lipstick.

"Mornin'," Sam attempted with a cherry smile, only to receive a glance accompanied by a tight-lipped expression. Her gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment, seemingly having similar thoughts on their sleeping habits, as she judgmentally cast her eyes on their unchanged clothes and the bags beginning to peek out from under Sam's eyes.

"Good morning," the woman finally answered, plastering a smile on her face and quickly tucking the book under the counter, "What can I do for you?"

"Marie is it?" Sam moved up to the desk and rested his hands on its top. Marie shifted slightly but made no attempt to move back or chastise him for the action, "I was wondering what the history of the building was," Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion making Sam laugh lightly at himself, "Sorry, that probably sounds odd. I'm a bit of a history and architecture buff. I couldn't help but notice that you have quite a place here," He gestured to the surrounding lobby, "I was just curious."

"I see," For the first time since they arrived, her expression genuinely softened, forming one of pride at his questioning, "My husband and I bought the building 25 years ago and remolded it into what you see now, but the building itself is much older, a town landmark."

"You and your husband run the hotel?" Cas pressed, stepping up to the desk beside Sam.

"Once," there was an uneasy pause, as she brought one of her hands unconsciously to a spot on her jacket, pressing against something enclosed inside before continuing, "Frank, my husband, died five months ago."

"How did he die?" Cas ventured. Marie's eyes snapped up to him, visibly closing off at the question.

"He was sick," She snapped, "Now historical buff or not, I don't appreciate the personal questions," Her hand returned to where it had been against her jacket, instead reaching inside and pulling out an old silver pocket watch, her fingers twisting the minute knobs on the side, before turning and leaving without another word.

"How can we search ever hall of this place and come up with nothing?" Dean grumbled as you walked beside him, trudging along the carpet to your rooms.

"I told you it was a waste of time," Lucifer sighed, earning a death glare from the other man.

"There's clearly something paranormal going on and I'm not ruling out something else either but whatever it is it's organized," you sighed your words as well. One of the best things about hunts was that they were messy. You learned how to kill something and you killed it, instead of dancing around in some fucked up game. Dean's phone vibrated, catching your attention as he pulled it from his pocket.

"Here, Sammy resent the photo that wouldn't load," He held the phone out and you pressed your shoulder against his as you looked over at it. The spitting image of the ghost stood in front of a slightly younger hotel, side by side with the grimacing visage of the woman at the front desk.

"Hmmm," you let the unspoken question vibrate off your tongue as you considered the image, taking the phone into your own hand, "Here, Luce, what-" you stopped short as you turned to hand the phone to an empty space.

"Lucifer," Dean yelled, almost angrily, groaning slightly when you elbowed him in the ribs for practically screaming through the halls.

"Luce," you called in a loud whisper, taking a step forward to where he had been standing, "Luce," you tried again, running to look around the nearest corner, but only finding more empty space.

"Dean," you heard the gravelly voice state at the same time you turned to see the trench-coated angel. Dean gave a nod in response, quickly squinting at the angel in question.

"Where's Sam?" You finished your walk back down the hall to them as he finished his question and your head turned slightly, echoing his inquiry.

"I'm not sure," Cas sounded just as confused as the two of you, "He was just here," He glanced from Dean and you to the hall behind you, "Lucifer?"

"He's gone too," you stated simply, swallowing the lump in your throat before continuing, "I don't know what's going on but I think we should pay the owner a visit." Dean nodded in agreement.

"Let's go," Dean's tone was grim and clearly laced with frustration as he pulled his pistol from the hem of his pants, stopping only from the weight of your hand on his arm.

"You go, Cas and I should take the roundabout way. Like we said, this is organized and if she's involved, I'd rather be prepared."

Dean carefully shuffled passed the empty main lobby, making his way into the conference style room off to the side. The door was already ajar but his eyes fell on nothing but the long table in the center of the dark carpet. A dusty smell floated through the air that reminded him of an old church he once visited as a teen, following some girl from he had met in whatever high school he was attending that week. His body froze as the clicking of a gun, followed by the immediate chill of the barrel's metal found his right ear.

"Who are you," He recognized the voice but didn't risk turning his head to see the woman.

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing," He quipped, as she kicked the door shut behind him and moved to stand in front with the pistol still aimed at his head.

"Are you the police?" Her hand shook along with her voice. Usually, he would have been quick so saying yes but something in her eyes made him guess a yes would equal the pulling of that trigger.

"No," He decided.

"Are you hunters?" Fuck, the word rattled about Dean's head as he shifted his weight, answering her question without words, "You're hunters," Her finger tensed on the trigger, making Dean throw up his hands in protests.

"Woah, Just put the gun down and we'll talk about it," He pleaded, eyes flickering back and forth between her shaking hand and frantic glare.

"I can't do that, this hotel is all that I have, It's the last piece of him I have," Marie's other hand came up to wipe the bead of sweat from her brow, trailing her hand down the rest of her face, accidentally smearing the red from her lips, before returning her double-handed grasp on the gun.

"Your husband? I can help you, we can put him to rest."

"No! He won't leave me, not now," Her fingers flinched as she yelled, making him jump slightly and lift his hands higher, trying to show he meant no harm. Oh~it dawned on him as he continued to face her.

"You killed him," The realization left his lips at just above a whisper.

"I had too like I have to kill you," Her arms lifted the gun, steadying it more on his head.

"Put the gun down," Cas commanded, as the two of you entered through the door on the opposite side of the room, your gun trained on the woman and his angel blade firmly grasped. In an instant, she swiveled around, placing her back to the door as she reached pressed her gun against the back of Dean's head with one hand, the other pulling a pocket watch from her jacket. Her finger turned the silver knob as the lights began to flicker. You watched your breathe cloud in front of you as you continued to breathe heavily. A loud, unearthly shriek sounded, making you all cringe and bring your hands instinctively to your ears. The specter calmly walked through the wall to your right, locking his empty eyes with your own. Marie shoved Dean forward, taking off through the door.

"I've got her," You yelled, hurrying passed the ghost that had luckily turned his attention to Cas, and following the woman out the door, gun held pointedly at your side as you ran.

Sam and Lucifer's groans echoed slightly in the cold damp room of the basement as they came to, the blow to their heads evident from the already dried trickle of blood against the temple and the throbbing neither of them could deny. A middle-aged, dark-haired woman in a maid's outfit watched them from in front of the door, the small light from outside its clouded glass pains, highlighting her soft features. Sam grunted, twisting his wrists to no avail in their rope restraints behind the chair, hissing as the material dug into his skin.

"If you struggle, you will only hurt yourself," She warned, offering Sam, what would be considered a welcoming smile in any other situation. Lucifer tried his luck, bucking himself up and pulling on the ropes so that he almost toppled the chair, but he remained securely fastened.

"Release us," He growled, the dimmest of reds tinting his gaze, "and maybe I'll make it fast when I rip out your heart," She made a tsking sound with her tongue, giving Lucifer a very disapproving look in return.

"That is not very nice," was her only response and her tone was more offended than angry.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam forced his voice to be softer.

"I do what the missus asks," She turned away from them as if to leave but snapped her attention quickly back as Lucifer let out a bellowing scream like someone had plunged an angel blade into his gut and twisted it spitefully. As calmly as before, the woman retrieved a small knife from a short counter to the side of the room, pointing the blade, rusted with what appeared to be a buildup of dried blood, in Lucifer's direction.

"The missus doesn't like noise," she harshly chastised, before composing herself, to finish her thought calmly, "If you insist on making a racket, I'll have to take your tongue."


	11. Something Real

A cracking sound resonated through the air and whether it was the wall or Castiel's back as he collided with the drywall, was anyone's guess.

"Cas!" Dean's concern followed the sound, his jaw set firmly as the Spector turned his attention to him. Cas's groans mingling with the low, unearthly growl that emanated from the creature's mouth. Dean squatted, retrieving the iron bar from the duffle bag you had dropped in the corner when you and Cas had stepped in, "Come on you son of a bitch," Dean egged him on, tightening his grasp on the iron, quickly warming under his heated hold. The ghost only glared at him, stepping calmly in his direction and vanishing before Dean could finish his swing. The hairs on the back of Dean's neck suddenly stood to attention, the cold spreading across his back with the spector's presence and closing around his throat like snakes made of ice as he was lifted off of the ground. He gasped, finding no air to relieve his panic. Suddenly, the grip loosened, dropping Dean limply to the floor. Cas stood behind him, blood dripping from his jaw and running down his back from the cuts and bruises below the back of his neck, the iron bar in one hand and the other extending to help Dean back up to his feet. The hazy lights flickered overhead, revealing the old man on the other side of the room, a murderous gaze somehow fixed in his vacant eyes.

"Shit," you groaned as your shoulder hit the wall, failing to stop your sprint in time before you turned and bolted up the next flight of stairs, eyes trained on the woman in front of you. Your lungs hinted at the first spark of a fire, as you continued to run. For an older woman, she was really fucking fast, you thought, cursing to yourself. Up the two of you went, passing flight after flight until she finally busted through the door and into the halls of the hotel, just one story short of the roof, with you directly on her heels. Her curled hair, loosened from running, was the last thing you saw before she disappeared into a room at the end of the hall, not bothering to shut the door, allowing you to slip in behind her. The room clearly functioned, or once functioned, as an office, with a wooden desk covered with a mountain of papers stood to the right, a simple couch to the left, and a large window across the back cracked slightly, the wind swirling a few papers around in the air. Marie stood, her curls tousled and fallen, and her smeared lips, combined with her pointed eyes giving her a manic appearance. She stood just to the side of the window, the stream of air softly moving the smaller strands of hair about her face.

"You don't understand," the words left her lips as a plea, but her smirk betrayed the intent behind them.

"You're right I don't. Why do this?" you prompted her, lifting your gun firmly in her direction.

"My husband was going to leave me," Marie's voice cracked and trailed off. You could see the gears in her head turning as she internally collected herself, " I couldn't let him and I couldn't risk the maid leaving either after it was over. Besides, what's a few strangers' lives for control?" Marie slipped a hand inside her jacket and plucked out the pocket watch. Her eyes gazed at it in turmoil, before moving them back up to you.

"So that's why everyone keep disappearing?" You weren't so much questioning as reasoning out loud, "Old magick requires new blood."

"New souls," She clarified and your grip unconsciously tightened around the weapon, "You don't know that it's like," the stoicness had left her voice, replaced with a genuine sorrow, laced in the cracks and gruffness of her words, as if each one was painfully pulled from her throat, "You don't know what it's like to be in love with someone and them no longer love you back." You swallowed, tightening your jaw as the words met your ears. Marie smiled sadly as her hand pushed open the large window pane, the sun's rays cascading onto the dark carpet. The only sound for a brief moment was the rustling of papers as the wind picked them up from the desk. Marie stepped up onto the window sill and looked out to the world below.

"Hey!" you scolded, slight panic in your tone, "you don't need to jump." Your entire body tensed but she only looked back at you with a mocking expression, lifting the watch and turning a silver nob.

"Oh," her shrill voice let out in mock surprise, "It isn't for me."

"Dean," The gravelly tone caught the other man's attention as Cas nodded to the duffle bag. The ghost flickered back into existence with its hallowed gaze set on Cas. He gripped his angel blade tightly, his jaw was stiff and the blood had long since dried, mating parts of his charcoal hair to his skin. Dean watched the specter closing in on the angel out of the corner of his eye, making his way to the opened bag on the floor. Most of the weapons were on their persons or thrown somewhere about the room but a large canister of salt was still tucked away within the black fabric. His hand closed around it but his eyes snapped back up to Castiel, a loud growl emanating from his direction. The ghost has apparently thrown him, or shoved him a few feet away and was closing in slowly to Cas's position on the floor. Quickly, He poured the salt into a large semi-circle behind himself.

"Hey," Dean called but the specter remained fixed on Cas, "Hey ghosty!" He yelled again and this time the creature turned, "Yeah, that's right, come on fugly!" The ghost had apparently changed targets and stalked up to Dean. The wrinkles near his eyes and across his forehead sagged more than usual and the eyes that fixed on Dean gave the appearance that he was looking into death itself—well, maybe he was essentially. He squatted, setting the salt by his feet and sliding it with one boot. The canister slid between the ghost's legs and into the waiting hands of Castiel who finished the circle. With a satisfied smile, Dean stepped out of the salt barrier, leaving the specter within its cage.

"That should hold him," Cas observed but the ghost suddenly forgot their existence, turning its attention frantically to the back of the room as if it was looking for something. It sprang forward, only to hit the invisible barrier. Again, it tried to no avail. The Spector turned to them, his face contorted with rage as it let out a blood-curdling screech, both of them reaching up to secure their hands over their ears.

The faded rumbles of a scream flouted to your ears but no ghost appeared. Your previously lowered gun lifted again and trained on Marie. Her expression fell from smug satisfaction to confusion and then to pure panic without a fraction of a second.

"I don't understand," The words left her lips as a mumble, meant for herself alone. You waited, hardly breathing, watching her look out to the sunny world outside of the window. Her gaze slowly returned to your direction, before suddenly snapping up to somewhere over your shoulder. Turning, you saw the maid in the doorway, an oddly soft expression juxtaposed with the dried blood on her left hand and across the collar of her uniform. Whose blood was that? The question rattled painfully in your brain. Before she could step forward you squeezed the trigger, a muffled groan escaping Marie's mouth as the bullet sunk into her chest, followed by a shattering clang of the pocket watch on the floor. The maid screamed, watching Marie fall back through the window, the sun's rays illuminating her for a moment before she disappeared from view. The maid vanished before your eyes and you ran to the window, looking down to the blurry black and white uniform, hovering over Marie's form.

You nodded at Dean and Cas, sighing and glaring at the ghost out of the corner of your eye as you passed him, making your way to the duffle bag slung over Dean's shoulder. You fished out the lighter turning to look for a trash can but Cas already had one extended to you.

"Thanks," you tossed the watch in and set it on the ground, ignoring the growls emanating from the Spector. Tearing a square of paper from the notepad on the table, you set it on fire and dropped it into the trash can. Slowly the flames licked over it. It was a small flame to a metal object so it wouldn't turn to ash anytime soon but the deterioration should be enough, you hoped. Soon enough, the ghost let out a final ear-splitting noise and went up in flames as well, "I'll let this burn a little longer and we can come back for it. We need to find Lucifer and Sammy." The two of them nodded in agreement, following you out of the room and into the lobby.

"Sammy," Dean yelled. Everyone was silent, waiting for a hint of a response but nothing came.

"Luce," you tried, moving down to the first hallway that leads to the rooms, "There are several floors but we didn't see anything unusual when we were searching, unless She put them in one of the rooms," you reasoned, speaking to Castiel beside you.

"It would be a good way to hide them but she seemed fairly organized. She would most likely have a system in place," He didn't look at you as he spoke, instead, peering around the hallway with a furrowed brow.

"I guess we're going down then," Dean walked up behind the two of you, having found nothing in and around the lobby, "Every haunted hotel has to have a creepy ass basement right?" Dean didn't wait for an answer but started off down the hall to find the staircase. To reach the basement you had to go down a flight of stairs, down a cement hall, and down another flight of stairs. Dried blood marked the hall and spotted the second flight of stairs, making your breath hitch in your throat and your chest tighten painfully. Finally, the three of you reached an open space, dark, cold, and weirdly humid, with a door to the far left.

"Luce, Sammy," you called, half yelling and half whispering. A mingling of muffled sounds came from behind the door, springing all three of you into action. Luckily, it wasn't locked and the door opened with ease, revealing Sam and Lucifer in the center, secured to chairs with gags in their mouths. Dean and Cas sprung to Sam and you to Lucifer, taking your knife out and cutting through the robes, as well as, untying the cloth around his mouth.

"Ahh," Lucifer groaned, rubbing the marks on his wrists in annoyance.

"Are you both alright?" Castiel questioned and you looked up to see Sam standing beside them.

"Fine," Lucifer grumbled shortly, as you looked him over carefully, eyes flashing with worry.

"Someone knocked us out and we woke up in here with that maid. She didn't touch us except when she re-gagged us cause Lucifer wouldn't shut up," Sam explained contempt in this tone, making Lucifer scoff.

"She did kidnap us," He justified his actions softly, touching a finger to the wound on his head.

"You're lucky she didn't cut out your tongue."

The five of you found yourselves in the bunker a few hours later, exhausted, bloody, and sore. Sam had disappeared to the bathroom to fix up his head, Lucifer had gone back to his room immediately after getting there, and Dean carefully tended to the cut on the back of Castiel's neck. You grabbed a handful of supplies that he wasn't using and made your way down the hall to Lucifer's room, knocking softly.

"Hey, it's me. Can I come in," there was a pause before the door opened with a slow movement. He stared down at you, curious but almost angry in his expression. You simply held up the supplies, "Thought I could help if you don't mind." He stopped again, debating, and then opened the door further so that you could enter. Lucifer sat on the bed and you moved in next to him, angling yourself towards him so that you could access his head better. He hissed slightly as you dabbed an anti-bacterial wipe across the wound.

"Careful," he hissed again, earning a glare from you. When it was finally clean, you added some ointment and took one of his hands into your own, rubbing a little on his robe burns as well.

"Luce, I'm sorry," you began, not moving your eyes from your task, "When I got back from the Djinn's world I didn't know which way was up and which way was down. I was hard to trust the ground under my feet and It was harder to know what was really around you. But, I shouldn't have blanked you like that and I'm sorry," You glanced up at his face, taking in the unreadable expression plastered across his face as you finished the other wrist and moved to leave.

"What did I do to you there?" Lucifer's voice made you stop, hand on the door handle but not twisting, instead, you turned back around to face him.

"What do you mean?"

"Sam said I was there with you, keeping you there, your nightmare," The last two words sounded almost strangled.

"Luce, that's not what happened."

"No, I suppose it makes sense that I would be your torture, after all, you do know the devil himself," Lucifer's words were now bitter and cold. You sighed and resumed your spot next to him on the bed, to his surprise.

"I woke up in the bunker and I thought everything was normal. I went to the kitchen and you came in there and," you stopped, inhaling sharply before continuing, "and you kissed me. Apparently, we were together, hell everyone was paired up somehow. Dean and Cas had finally gotten over themselves and Sam was dating Gabe," you chuckled slightly at that, daring to look up at him for a moment. He was watching you, posture tense but still intent on hearing what you had to say, "I knew something was off but I stayed regardless. Eventually, I realized it was a Djinn and I woke up again, this time in a warehouse but it was just another trick. I knew it wasn't real because I didn't have these," you lifted your shirt slightly to show him the jagged marks across your stomach, "Sam found me later in that world. I guess he heard that version of you begging me to stay there because it was the only version of the world where you loved me. I never thought you were a monster Luce, I never will." There was silence for a second and you couldn't look at him, instead, you pushed yourself up off the bed.

"Why didn't you stay," He finally spoke and you looked down on him, locking your (E/C) eyes with his icy blue ones.

"Because I knew it wasn't real. It was a cultivating illusion so that some monster could drain the life out of me. This world isn't all rainbows and sunshine but it's where I'm needed." Lucifer nodded and stood. He was very close to you but he didn't move. A cold hand found your chin, lifting your head up to him and connecting his lips to yours in one motion. Surprised, you pulled away.

"Don't," you pleaded, "I said I was sorry. Don't fuck with me like that Luce." You glared at him angrily and he sat back down on the edge of his bed.

"They were taking forever and I was terrified those jackasses were going to finally get to you and find you dead in warehouse. If I still had my grace that thing wouldn't have gotten you in the first place."

"Luce," you whispered but he continued.

"I thought I had tortured you. I thought you hated me and you were the only person who ever treated me as an angel, as a friend." He looked down at the floor and you stared at him. He cared about you? A tear fell from your eye and you watched drops hit the floor between his feet, from his own tears.

"I don't hate you," more tears fell as you closed the distance between the two of you, stopping just in front of him and resting a hand lightly on the back of his head. Lucifer looked up at you with your touch, eyes red. He was always very cold, even when he was joking or in pain. You had never seen him like this but he didn't seem to care for once.

"He's wrong," Lucifer finally spoke, taking your hand from his head and holding it with his own.

"Who's wrong?"

"That world is not the only version where I love you," He stood, allowing you to step back from him, but you still kept your hand in his, "Look," He brought your hand to your stomach and you slipped it beneath the fabric, your fingers running along the scarred skin. This was real, your mind rang out, "Can I kiss you?" He asked, not moving any closer until you finally nodded.

"Yes," you whispered as his cold lips collided with your own, tenderly, lovingly. His hand still rested over yours against the scars, reminding you as his lips worked in tandem with your own— _This was something real._


End file.
